Sweet Revenge
by Scarlett Hawthorne
Summary: Samantha Ridges was the daughter of one of the great pirates. After facing a mutiny, she falls into hard times and inevitably a dashing pirate that she refers to as Sparrow.
1. Chapter 1

_Sweet Revenge_

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: It'd be nice if I did own POTC, but unfortunately, I am just a poor teenager :(

I walked along the deck lost in thought. No, I wasn't bored… I could never be bored on the sea. It was the waiting… the stillness in the air that frightened me. Something was coming: what I knew not.

"Sam get some food ready, I'm 'bout starved," a voice cut through my thoughts.

I smiled a little and called out, "I don' make food, Cap'n! How many times do I need to tell ye to get a cook?"

The captain smiled in return, and said with a chuckle, "I think it might be a better idea to get me 'lil girl educated in the fine arts of domestics!"

"Domestics? Never heard o' the word, Pa," I answered, glancing over at his burly form. He was just joking of course; I knew he would never want me to leave the ship. Though I knew he questioned himself constantly if he had made the right decision to take me aboard the _Sunrise_ many a time. He thought the risk too high, yet he couldn't bear to be separated too long from me.

Pa grabbed me in a big hug, mussing my long red hair that exactly matched his hair—well what it looked like before the sprinkles of grey mixed in. "Have I done right by ye, Sammy?" He asked with a half frown.

"Of course Pa, what would I have done without ye… and the Sunrise? I love me life."

"Yer mama wouldna been too happy to see ye grow up into the pirate ye are. I don' ever wan' me lil' girl to get hurt…" he murmured, pulling me closer to him. This was a side no one but I had ever experienced of the fearsome Captain Ridges. He was invincible, and had no weaknesses. To all but the crew, I was merely a tomboy crewmember. Pa didn't want anyone to have the leverage of his little girl to use over him.

"Pa, I couldna ever been happy as a 'lil noble girl. Can ye imagin' me wearin' one of them corsets? Ye can't even walk in them things from what I hear." I answered. I always had to find some way to calm his doubts; I was a woman in a few physical areas only. I knew if I had been born a boy he would not be anxious at all.

He chuckled a little, but I could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Pa, I be a 'lil hungry too, maybe ye should get one of the scurvy dogs 'round here to make some food."

Pa nodded a little, let go of me, and shouted some orders to his crew.

I felt a little chill and looked around apprehensively. _Something_ was amiss.

I sat repairing a torn sail next to the foremast, jabbing myself with the needle over and over again. "Damnit!" I called and stuck my thumb in my mouth.

"I thought you were over yer thumb sucking stage Samantha?" One of the crew members asked.

I looked up with a start and pulled my thumb out of my mouth. "Tol' ye not to call me that," I answered with a scowl.

He drew his hands up to him, as if he was backing away. "I'm sorry… Sam. Just thought you might like to hear yer real name once in a while."

"Since when is Sam not a real name?" I asked, my scowl deepening. He really had the talent for getting under my skin. When he didn't answer I looked up again and said, "So Charlie what do ye want this time?"

"Nothing… Sam, since when do I need to give a reason to talk to you?" he asked, annoyance in his voice.

"Ye don'. But I don' have to respond now do I?"

Charlie was a little taken aback, but merely walked away. I shook my head in exasperation and presumed my task. The men on Pirate ships were all sex fiends I was sure, though they were all much more cautious around me than other women. Pa would shoot 'em dead for messing with me. Charlie wouldn't give up though; I didn't see what he saw to be attracted to though.

I had unruly red hair like my father's that whipped about out of control, my mother's eyes of a sea green that at times matched the ocean exactly. There certainly wasn't anything special about what I wore. It was merely a miniature version of what most male pirates wore: Breeches, scuffed boots, white (well that was the color it was when I acquired it) shirt, a green bandana around my hair with a dirty leather hat on top of it. Numerous charms hung from my neck—mostly odd things Pa had found on his travels that he gave me or my mother before me. Most precious, but most out of place next to all the small cheap trinkets, was the small gold locket that held locks of Pa's and Ma's hair entwined together. I was basically a miniature of Pa; just my eyes were my mother's. I even shared his name—he Samuel and I Samantha.

I finished the sail and looked around for Pa. He was at the stern at the wheel talking to Charlie and I debated walking up to him. Contrary to what many would think I was not the first mate aboard the Sunrise. That honor belonged to Potts, my father's most trusted friend. He had become ill a few days back though, and Pa was distraught, though he tried not to show it.

I walked slowly towards the helm, hoping Charlie would finish talking to Pa and leave. It was not the case though, as I arrived, he was still discussing something. I sighed a little and turned, wishing Charlie would fall overboard. For no reason in particular, Pa liked Charlie though I couldn't stand him. He was extremely arrogant, and used every chance he got to speak to Pa, giving his opinion on everything he could think of.

"Pa," I interrupted. Their conversation stopped and Pa looked at me with a small scowl.

"I be talkin' with Charlie right now Samantha. Can it wait?" He asked, deliberately stressing Samantha.

I breathed deep and raised my eyebrows, turning away in annoyance. What was it about Charlie that made him so… annoyed with me? Every time I talked to him after he talked to Charlie he was short and sullen.

I walked to the forecastle on the other side of the ship and bent down by Potts. He had always been like an uncle to me. Whenever Pa had been busy, especially when I first came on the Sunrise when I was eight, Potts had looked after me. He taught me many of the key elements to the ship, even many essentials or fencing. As I looked at him now I was scared. How could this mighty man be failing now?

"Potts?" I asked in a whisper. He lay on the hammock, breathing short labored breaths. His eyelids fluttered open and he looked at me with a small smile. I grabbed his hand in mine, his grip as tight as his weak body could stand.

"'Lil Sammy," he whispered. "I'm sorry I won' be able to make your weddin'."

I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry. Getting married was an old joke between us, for I knew I could never get married. It was the largest form of bondage I could ever imagine. But at least before he used to joke what it would be like at my wedding.

"Potts…" I began searching for the words. "I'm not gettin' married, so o' course ye won' see it."

Potts smiled a little and went into a coughing fit. "Take care o' yer pa for me Sammy. It be all up to ye now."

"Potts please don' talk like that. This'll all pass! Ye will get better," I whispered fiercely, trying to convince myself.

Potts shook his head slowly, and whispered, "Ye have been almost like me own 'lil girl all these years Sammy. I—I always thought o' ye like me own. I want ye to know that… that I love ye."

"Oh Potts, I love ye! But ye act as if this is a goodbye…" I whispered more fiercely. Where was his will? Why wasn't he fighting?

"But it is my girl. Tell yer Pa—" he started but he never finished.

"Potts?" I whispered as his grip slackened. "Potts?" I asked louder. "Potts?" I screamed. I backed away from the body, and tears streamed down my face for the first time since I was eight years old and my mother died.

"Potts!" I screamed over and over sinking to my knees, my face in my hands. I was oblivious to everything around me, even my father opening the door and letting out a cry of his own. He grabbed me in his arms and let me cry onto his shoulder.

"Pa… he be gone…" I whispered through my tears.

He cradled me in his arms and picked me up in his arms, silently bringing me to my cabin where he set me down on my bed where my tears soaked the pillow.

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	2. Chapter 2

_Sweet Revenge_

Chapter 2

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Somehow I fell asleep and only woke as I heard a bell ring on deck. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Slowly I made my way out of my room and up on deck. Everyone was doing chores and I looked up at Pa as he watched—his standard iron look on his face.

"Pa," I said as I walked up to him. He looked down at me and his features still held their iron glaze.

"Are ye all right Pa?" I asked. He never looked at me with that expression—his eyes always held a glint in them.

"Fine," he answered and yelled an order to the crew. "We cast him back to the sea."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "Without me? Ye had his funeral without me?"

Still his gaze didn't soften and he merely said, "Ye needed to rest."

"What be wrong, Pa?" I asked.

He turned away from me and his gaze brightened a little as Charlie walked up to him.

"Cap'n everything is in order," he said with a small smile.

"Good… remember what we discussed before Macey—take the wheel," he directed.

"Where we headed, Pa?" I asked, telling myself that he wasn't deliberately being cold.

"The treasure of Captain Grayson," he replied slowly still not looking at me.

"Ye told Charlie about it?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"Everything?"

"No."

"Then what?" I asked, his simple answers annoying me.

He looked over at me with a curious expression. "Come with me," he said and led me to his cabin.

I followed him in the elaborate cabin, beckoning him to speak.

"Samantha… I discussed many things with Macey… many important things that he understands. No, I didn't tell him everything about Grayson's treasure. But… I thought long and hard about this. I appointed him my first mate, Samantha," he explained, his back to me the whole time.

Needless to say I was speechless, I couldn't even blink. "Pa… ye can't be talking 'bout Charlie? Charlie Macey?"

"Of course I am. Samantha… I know how capable ye are… but ye are a woman… ye can't change that," he said as if it were an excuse.

"So yer saying that 'cuz I'm a daughter instead of a son that _he_ his yer most trusted confident?" I asked, barely breathing.

"No, I'm saying that he's older and wiser than ye Samantha."

"Stop calling me that!" I yelled. "I may be a girl, but I'm not all that implies Pa! I be strong and… experienced! Whether ye remember or not Pa, I be twenty years old, giving me twelve years to me credit at sea! I have been trained to fence and fire a gun since I was ten by two of the most credited sailors there has ever been!" I was yelling now. It had been basically an unspoken agreement that if something happened to Potts I would take over his position. I was to be captain of the Sunrise when Pa died.

"I am quite aware of what ye have done over the past years; I have been there the entire time. I wont have ye yelling—I still be yer father!" He answered, his expression hardening to stone.

"No… I don't think ye really are… ye are my cap'n now… that be all…" I whispered. "Ye betrayed me Pa…"

I walked out of his cabin, determined to keep my wounded demeanor from being exposed to everyone.

I looked up at Charlie with a scowl, while he held a triumphant smile. I spit onto the deck and walked away.

I didn't talk to Pa for weeks. I did what I was told, but the playful jokes and talks between us were lost.

I spent more time in my cabin wondering what to do. I walked out on the forecastle deck one night, looking out at the ocean, dimly lit by the moon and stars. I leaned on the railing, wondering why Pa had changed his mind about me.

My reveries were interrupted by the banging on Pa's cabin across the ship. I turned briefly and then again when I realized that it looked like the whole crew was in front of his door—led by Charlie Macey.

I sucked in my breath and wondered if my instincts were right as to what was happening.

The cabin door opened and Pa looked at the crowd with an uneasy look. I walked down the steps slowing, and as I heard the words pierce the air I shivered. "Cap'n we are so sorry to take you out of the cabin at this hour, but would you do us the favor of talking to us?"

Pa looked at them with a scowl and stepped out, his hand on his pistol.

"Cap'n, no need for weapons," Charlie mocked, his own pistol drawn to my horror. "Please, _sir_, I would appreciate yer weapons."

I pulled my own flintlock pistols from my belt—I always kept two. Charlie motioned for one of the other crewmembers to remove Pa's gun and sword and as he stepped forward I cocked my guns.

All eyes turned to me and I said sullenly, "I would appreciate the lowering of yer weapons _gentlemen_. Especially yers Macey."

He gave a little laugh and asked, "You have two pistols girl, how far do you expect to get with them?"

"At least I can shoot ye—ye dirty mutineer," I snarled back at him, very aware that I was greatly outnumbered.

"Sam…" Pa murmured. I could tell he wanted me to stop, but I knew I couldn't.

"I suggest ye let me Pa go and end this," I said loudly.

Charlie scoffed and shook his head. "Get 'er," He commanded his followers. A group of four or five of the men walked towards me, all menacingly. How could I have ever trusted them?

"Back up," I told them, aiming the pistols. This be yer last chance!" They kept coming and I pulled one of the triggers. One man, Jones, fell to the ground dead.

The other men stopped and looked to Macey for assurance.

"She has but one shot left men," he told them, rolling his eyes.

Pa was looking at me with pleading eyes. "Sam, don', they might kill ye," he beseeched.

"Yes, Samantha, don't be a bad little girl," Charlie prodded. I looked at him with hate, but my shot was blocked by the men that were now surrounding me.

I shot my other pistol in desperation as they closed in, and another of the mutineers fell to the deck. I threw this pistol to the floor and grabbed for my sword. Charlie smiled insanely, and as I pulled out my sword, the mutineers pulled out their guns and pointed them at me.

"I suggest you drop yer weapon or I shall kill yer father… and you this instant," Macey said with a sneer.

My thoughts jumped to my father, who watched helplessly, desperation filling his face. I dropped my blade and was immediately seized by a couple of the men. They pulled my arms behind me and Charlie turned his attention back to Pa.

"Now, _Captain,_ care to tell me a little more about Grayson's treasure?" Charlie asked, beckoning for a couple of the mutineers to grab him.

"I'll never tell ye," he answered with a snarl.

"Now, captain, that's not very nice to tell yer first mate. After all, I am yer closest confidante, am I not?" he asked, deliberately annoying me about my father's choice.

"It was the biggest mistake of me life to make ye me first mate ye scum, and I'll tell ye nothin'." Pa spat at Charlie.

"'Tis a shame cap'n. Seems ye want me to be killin' yer 'lil girl there?" Pa's gaze shifted over to me as I struggled against my captors. "Don' hurt her…"

"I won't if'n ye tell me, cap'n," Charlie answered. So Pa told him where it was, his eyes on me the whole time as if to say he was sorry.

"Thank ye Cap'n," Macey replied when Pa finished. By the way, I shall have many nights of fun with this 'lil girl ye have here. She really is a gem—so untouched by men. Yes…" he whispered looking over to me, "So much fun…"

Pa broke away from the men who held him and yelled as he reached for Charlie, "Don't ye dare touch her!" A loud blast went off and I screamed as my father fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.

I broke away from the men who held me and rushed to him. "Pa, pa!" I screamed and he grasped my hand and whispered, "He—he… blinded me… Sammy…I… I… love…ye darling…" He gasped for breath and before he took his last breath Charlie Macey yelled for his men to throw Pa overboard.

The splash cut through me like a knife, "Ye dirty scallywag!" I screamed at Charlie, reaching for him to hurt somehow. "Ye bastard! Ye deserve to burn in the deepest depths of hell!"

He merely chuckled and grabbed my wrists, holding me at bay. The next second I felt something hard strike my head and I fell into a black abyss.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sweet Revenge_

Chapter 3

Once again thanks for the reviews!

I awoke the next day on the bed in the captain's cabin. _Pa's cabin_. My eyes fluttered open and I prayed it had all been a nightmare. I looked down around the room slowly and as I tried to pull my hands down, I realized they were bound a thick rope and were tied to the headboard. I shuddered and realized it _had_ happened.

"Yes it is true Miss Ridges, it did all happen," Charlie remarked as if he could read my thoughts.

"Ye scum," I yelled.

"I'm aware you may feel that way for awhile Samantha, but I'm sure you shall warm up to me," he said with a smile.

"After I kill ye I might," I spat back.

"Now, now Miss Ridges, yer father wasn't a good captain. I did the ship a favor," he answered, his eyes an icy blue.

"My father was the best captain to ever sail the Caribbean!" I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You are wrong Samantha, that title belongs to me."

"Ye be no captain! Ye are nothin' but a mutineer and a murderer who is damned to hell!" I yelled in reply, trying to keep the tears from filling my eyes. Pa could _not_ be dead! How could he be… gone?

"I doubt that very much Samantha. Now we are on our way to find Grayson's treasure. You better hope yer father had enough sense to tell us the right coordinates," he replied, turning away to look at one of Pa's maps.

"Ye have no right to be in here. This be Pa's private room," I respond, chilled with the idea of him touching all of Pa's things.

"Not anymore… now this is our room Samantha," he answered with a smirk.

I tensed and said, "I'll kill ye the first chance I get Macey."

"Too bad you won't get the chance," he said, as he walked closer, looking down at me.

With that he left the room and I was left to my own thoughts.

Charlie didn't come back for many hours in which I fought the whole time against my bonds: Nothing worked. When he came if I was in the process of pulling on them to which he said, "It'll do no good Samantha… you are my prisoner…" he let out a large belch and pulled off his shirt. The scent of rum wafted towards me and I groaned as I realized he was drunk.

He took off his belt and smiled. "I've waited for this the entire time I've been on this ship. I can finally bring Miss Samantha Ridges off her high horse."

"Ye disgust me ye traitor," I yelled.

"Don't be so… mean… this'll be a fun experience for you, Sammy. Yes, I'm sure you will think on it the rest of yer life… though that might not be too long…" he slurred with a chuckle.

I braced myself as he pulled off his boots and then his breeches and turned away.

"Aw Miss Ridges don't be so scared…"

"I be not scared Macey. I jus' don' wan' to see ye." I muttered and he reached for me. I could do little to stop the drunkard as he pulled off my boots and breeches. His hands went under my shirt and he slowly unbuttoned it. I could do nothing but curse myself for getting caught in this situation.

Somehow I fell asleep that night and I awoke with the sun streaming in on my face. Macey had his arms around my naked body and shuddered as I remembered what he did to me. I tried to scoot away, but his grip on me merely tightened.

"Samantha, why do you always want to wreck the moment," he murmured, pulling me closer.

"Let go 'o me," I said, trying to push him away.

"That was quite a tumble last night Miss Ridges, why do you want to wreck the moment?"

"I hate ye," I whispered.

He let go and got up, looking down at me. I wished I could grab the sheet to wrap around me, but I couldn't reach it.

"Ye really are a beautiful girl Samantha; I can see why yer father kept you under wraps."

I looked away in disgust as he began to dress. "I found some clothes I'm sure you will love, Samantha," he said and picked up a bundle of clothing. From it emerged a bright low cut red dress, a corset, and some other undergarments.

"I am not wearing that," I said.

"Either you wear this or you wear nothing at all," he ordered with a smile and I scowled as he cut the rope from the bed, still leaving my hands tied together.

"It might be a 'lil difficult to get me hands through the sleeves Charlie," I said and he cut the rope, keeping a firm grip on my hands. I pulled the bodice on, mostly just to have something on so he couldn't stare at my bare body. He let go of my hands to pull on the corset and I elbowed him in the stomach and pulled his knife from his belt.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you Samantha," he warned. "The crew will kill you as soon as you step out of the room."

"At least ye will be dead though," I replied, and readied myself to hurl the knife into his chest. The door flew open and I heard a gun cock.

"Now Miss Ridges, I don' wanna have to be pullin' this trigger…" the man said.

My attention diverted for a second, Macey pulled out his own gun and pointed it at my face. "Yes Miss Ridges, I would advise you to drop the knife…" he said. I was defeated and I knew it. I dropped the knife.

"Much better Miss Ridges," Macey said and beckoned the crewmember. "Point that gun right at her skull. If she makes a move for a weapon—shoot her."

"Yes, Cap'n," the man replied, aiming his gun.

Charlie picked up the corset again and pulled it on my body. He went to extra lengths to make it as tight as possible so I could barely walk, much less run. "Put on the dress," he ordered, and I grabbed it from him and he buttoned it up. I felt so weighted down, I knew escape would be impossible.

"Now Samantha, I would appreciate you accompanying me out to the deck," he said in a mock gentry accent.

"Accompany yerself," I muttered back and walked out in front of him. He followed me out and grabbed my arm. I elbowed him in the gut again and he muttered a curse and slapped me across the face.

"Don't do that again," he ordered and pushed me to the railing. It hurt a little of course, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction for my pain.

"I'll do whatever I damn well want," I yelled in reply. The crew stared at us: some in amusement, some in annoyance.

"I highly doubt that…" he whispered into my ear, wrapping his arms around me.

"What do ye want from me?" I asked slowly as he ran his hand through my hair.

"Jus' want to make sure yer dear ol' dad gave us the right coordinates…" he answered.

"He did, ye might as well let me go then." All I wanted was revenge… but there was no way to accomplish that _and_ stay alive.

"After the treasure."

1 week later

After that horrible week of sharing Macey's bed we arrived at the island of Grayson's treasure. Pa had told them the right coordinates—he wanted me to be safe. After bringing back all the treasure to the Sunrise, Charlie looked at me with annoyance and said, "I don't believe I need you anymore Miss Ridges."

"Good, then drop me off in some port and leave me alone," I returned.

"That is much too easy Samantha. I was considering… well why not leave you there?" he asked with a smile, as he pointed back to the island which we had anchored right near.

I raised my eyebrows in return; I had hoped to find a better arrangement.

At my uncertain glance he smiled further and said, "Yes… I believe that is a very fine arrangement."

"At least I'll be getting away from ye," I muttered and walked to the plank. I was dressed in another one of the dresses and I ripped it off and threw it in the ocean. "Can't expect me to swim in that damn thing," I replied to his questioning glance. I tried to undue the corset, but of course Charlie had knotted it so it would be impossible without help from him.

"Get this off of me," I ordered and stood in front of him. He pulled out a knife and sliced off the corset, leaving me in my bodice.

As I readied myself to jump, he grabbed a pistol out of his belt and threw it at me. "In case you get hungry," he whispered as he leaned forward. I looked down at it, knowing full well what he meant and thought to throw it back at him.

"I swear I'll get off this island and kill ye Macey!" I yelled at him. I raised my voice further and yelled, "I swear I'll kill all of ye and ye shall all rot in hell!"

Charlie chuckled at this and leaned forward, "I'd be more worried 'bout getting off that island Sammy," with that he reached out and pushed me off the ship, sending me swimming to shore, clutching the pistol in my fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sweet Revenge_

Chapter 4

Reviews please! Anyways, thanks for reading, Jack'll be coming up soon, don't worry!

I lay out on the beach for hours, wondering what to do next. Finally I stood, and decided to see if there was any food or water on the island. After about an hour of searching I found one lone coconut tree with four coconuts.

I cracked one open with a rock and drank the sweet juice that seemed to disappear in seconds. After eating some of the coconut flesh I sunk down to my knees and fell asleep, wondering what the island would bring.

The next few days passed uneventfully, and I found no other food. The last coconut was gone and my throat felt like sandpaper. I lay aimlessly under a tree hoping something would happen so that I would see Charlie Macey again. Only for one purpose of course: to kill him. The gun began to look better and better as the days went on and there was no sign of help. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to pull the trigger and I almost did twice.

The next morning I awoke to white sails on the horizon. I waved my arms frantically, wishing I had thought of starting a signal fire. Amazingly the vessel kept coming and I screamed for joy.

A group of sailors rowed to the island and a man who appeared to be their captain bowed in front of me. He said something in what sounded like French and I shook my head and said, "Ye speak English?"

"Pardon Mademoiselle, I am Captain Louis Cartier. Are you in need of assistance?" he asked with a graceful gesture.

"Aye… please help me! Jus' bring me to a port, any port!" I nearly begged. I recognized the sail as a French flag, and the captain was dressed in uniform so I assumed they were a navy ship. Maybe because I was a woman—and with the bodice on I didn't look much like a pirate—they didn't think I was a pirate, I shall never know. They never questioned me about it, and I assumed they thought I was just a poor shipwrecked woman.

So the French sailors brought me aboard the _Belle_ and I sailed with them for near two weeks before they dropped me off in a small Port which ironically was called Port Charles. They had accommodated me with a fine green dress on board with which I was able to sell and buy some breeches, a shirt, some boots, a hat and a cutlass.

I surveyed the ships in the harbor and picked one out, determined to find a port where I could start my search. That night I snuck aboard a ship and waited for the next chapter of my life to begin.

I snuck off the ship when everything was quiet. As I journeyed up from the lower storage areas and somehow made it off the ship undetected. The port was loud and smelly immediately making me smile as I realized it was Tortuga.

Whores marked every corner; drunks were passed out on the streets. I took a deep breath and grinned idiotically. A man slapped my arse as I walked down the street and immediately got a punch in the eye. Others called out to me, some even came up to me and asked if I was interested in the night—needless to say these men wouldn't like the feel of their faces when they sobered up.

I walked in one of the taverns—the one my father had often gone… with some company many a time.

I surveyed the loud drunk pirates and found a table in a corner and sat down. A woman came over a few minutes later—older and for some reason I recognized her.

Yelling over the crowd she asked, "What ye want?"

The voice was unmistakable. She was my father's "best friend" in the ports and he had spent many a night with her. She wore way too much makeup, and her dress was a bright red, with an extremely low cut neck. There was something about her that set her aside from the other whores—there wasn't such crudeness in her.

"Maryann?" I asked.

She looked down at me and squinted a little. "Well if it ain't Cap'n Ridges 'lil girl. Where be the rascal?"

I clenched my fists as I readied myself for the words, "He be dead."

"What? What ye be saying, child?" she asked, real sorrow in her eyes.

"He was murdered by his first mate over a month ago. The whelp took over the ship," I explained with anger flooding though my body.

"Murdered? Samuel Ridges be dead?" she asked and sunk down into the empty chair next to me. "Jus' don' seem possible."

"Not for me either," I murmured.

"What happened to the ship?" she asked.

"The scallywag's got it."

She eyed me curiously and asked, "What'd you do 'bout it?"

I glared at her and tried not to yell, "I did nearly everything imaginable to save Pa. It be only a stroke of luck that I ain't dead on a godforsaken beach right now!"

I got up to leave but Maryann grabbed my arm and said, "I meant no disrespect, jus' I can't believe ol' Sam is really gone. Don' go."

"Me Pa is dead and I'll never see 'im again. I'd gladly give me own life if he could be here right now," I said through clenched teeth. I sat back down and buried my face in my hands. I could feel the hot tears run over my hands, but I did nothing to stop it though I knew _pirates don't cry_.

Maryann looked at me with a sad gaze and I could see a few tears escape her eyes. "Want somethin' to drink?" she asked, trying to regain her composure as the kohl around her eyes streamed down her face. She made no move to wipe it away and stood up. Without waiting for my answer she walked to the bar.

A few minutes later she arrived with a bottle and a mug and set it down in front of me. "Yer Pa's favorite. We—he always drank it when he came here."

I uncorked the bottle and the sweet scent of rum wafted towards me. It was some of the best rum there was, Pa always had a few bottles hidden away that he celebrated. He still rarely ever let me drink with him, usually only when he was drunk already.

I uncorked the bottle and held it in my hand for a minute. Without another thought I brought it up to my lips and drank.

* * *

I laughed again as I sat on a man's lap—I wasn't sure who and I didn't really care. Bottles of rum littered the table and I mumbled something as I drank some more and he picked me up.

"Want some fun luv?" he asked with what looked like a smile.

"'Course," I said and jumped down from his arms, pulling his arm to the desk where he got a key. We stumbled up the stairs and made it to the room. We kissed menacingly and sunk down in the bed.

I awoke with a sheet tangled around my bare body. I looked over at the other side of the bed which lay empty. On the bedside table six coins sat glittering in the sunlight. My eyes went wide and I leaped across the bed, grabbed the coins, and threw them out the empty window. Damn bastard! I was no whore!

I dressed quickly determined that I wouldn't let a man get the upper hand on me ever again.

* * *

I asked Maryann for a job—just selling the liquor nothing more.

"Ye certainly didna object last night," she said as I made the stipulation.

I glared at her and said, "That be for mutual pleasure… money wasn't a part of it."

She looked as if she didn't believe me but nodded and I started working at "The Bucket of Blood".


End file.
